


ask and you shall

by treescape



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape
Summary: “A question,” he says, and his voice sounds raw to his own ears. “One which I will not require you to answer, but which I should like to ask all the same.”
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 154





	ask and you shall

The game is long over, the dejarik board left neglected on the table in favour of quiet speech and laughter. Obi-Wan cherishes these evenings more than he thinks he properly should, here in the privacy of Qui-Gon’s quarters. These rooms still feel more familiar to him than his own, even though he has been a Knight for nigh on four years. He wonders if anywhere will ever feel as much like home as this place that is so saturated with Qui-Gon’s presence.

It is well past the time when Obi-Wan should go, no longer night but early, early morning. It is always difficult to leave, when such meetings come so rarely. There is ever another separation on the horizon, another mission—if not for him, then for Qui-Gon—and the call of his own lonely bed in his own barren quarters cannot compete with this man’s company.

Finally, Obi-Wan can delay no longer, but his voice rings hollow in his own ears as he takes his leave. The carefully regulated lights limn the contours of Qui-Gon’s face as Obi-Wan turns to go, but the brush of fingers against his sleeve makes him halt.

“You won the game,” Qui-Gon says with a smile, and his voice is rueful. “What will it be?”

The bet had been Qui-Gon’s own suggestion, when Obi-Wan had expressed skepticism that his former master could outmaneuver him.

Obi-Wan hesitates for a moment. He could make a ridiculous request, a joke of some sort that will be embarrassing but harmless. Perhaps it is what Qui-Gon expects. But here, in the quiet of Qui-Gon’s quarters with the permanent ache that has been his companion for so many years, Obi-Wan has never felt more serious.

He could blame it on the lateness of the night, on the bone-deep exhaustion that never fully goes away, on the reckless audacity that winning the game had apparently lent him. But Obi-Wan has always tried to be honest with himself, and he knows that it is simple desperation and longing that guides him.

“A question,” he says, and his voice sounds raw to his own ears. “One which I will not require you to answer, but which I should like to ask all the same.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes are on his face, and the sound of his voice, as always, is like a lifeline. “You may ask, Obi-Wan, and I will answer if the question is such that I might.”

“Might I…” The words catch in his throat, and for a brief instant, Obi-Wan wonders if they will cause more pain within him or without. But he has already begun, and Qui-Gon had taught him long ago that a thing half-finished is not well-done at all. The other man looks at him expectantly, and Obi-Wan finds that he cannot bear to not go on. “I wondered if I might kiss you.”

The slow smile that quirks the corners of Qui-Gon’s mouth is an explosion of light. It is the searing warmth of blazing fire. It is a sunflare out of purest darkness. 

“I rather think you might.”


End file.
